


Love Calls You By Your Name

by laireshi



Category: Marvel 616, New Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Injury, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Steve's boyfriend, Tony Stark, doesn't come home after Iron Man gets hurt when protecting Steve.





	Love Calls You By Your Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> HAPPY REALLY BELATED BIRTHDAY, WREN!!! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME APPROXIMATELY 5 YEARS. 
> 
> (Bingo fill for a picture of Tony in bandages)

Steve was winded. The army of Doombots never got any easier to fight. Mr. Fantastic and Tony Stark were trying to hack them and Doctor Strange hovered nearby, looking for an opportunity for a magical attack. Steve did not like one bit that Tony was that close to a battlefield, but he knew he was well-protected by magic and technology both, not to mention Iron Man, but so far, the Doombots kept attacking.

Steve knew he could fight them for as long as he needed to. There was no other option. But he _was_ getting tired. Above him, Ms. Marvel shot pure energy at a Doombot, melting it completely. Steve smiled grimly. 

He aimed his shield at the next Doombot and threw it. It hit its target, breaking the power supply of the Doombot. But it buried itself in the metal, and Steve would have to run across the battle field to regain it. He looked around, hoping for a flier to help him. Ms. Marvel was still engaged above him, and Iron Man was nowhere to be seen, probably just next to Tony. Which was _good_ , but it meant no one could get Steve to the shield faster. He had to run, and do it now.

He hid behind a turned over car, and then jumped forward. He ran in a zigzag. He was more than the halfway there when a shot went just in front of him. Steve stopped and looked at the Doombot attacking him now. 

He could take it down hand to hand—he just had to move forward, avoid the next shot, kick it hard in its mechanical neck . . . He was moving as he was thinking, but he wasn’t fast enough. The Doombot fired again.

Something pushed Steve to the ground.

Steve tried to get up immediately, but the thing over him was _heavy_. And thenhe noticed that it was not _a thing_ , it was _Iron Man_ , unmoving on top of Steve.

“Thanks for the save, Iron Man, but we need to move.”

Silence.

A cold shiver went through Steve. He crawled from under the armour and looked down on it. The helmet didn’t seem damaged, but the chestplate was cracked in a few places, and there was something looking dangerously like blood spilling from it.

 _No_.

“Iron Man?” Steve asked.

Nothing.

“Shellhead?”

No reaction. 

“Cap, get him out of there,” Ms. Marvel shouted, landing in front of him, sending her energy bolts in every direction.

Steve didn’t want to injure Iron Man further by moving him, but she was right. They needed to get somewhere safer.

He started to gently lift Iron Man in his arms, when all the Doombots fell down around them at once.

So Tony and Reed did it. Except it was too late. 

“Call Tony,” Steve ordered Carol. “I don’t even know how to get Iron Man out of this suit, and he’s not responding.”

Except then War Machine landed next to them.

“One of my emergency protocols,” he explained before Steve could ask. “Is T—Iron Man— _oh_.”

He clearly noticed Iron Man wasn’t in _any_ way okay. 

“Fuck,” Rhodes said. “Okay. I’ll take him from here.”

“He needs medical attention,” Steve said.

“Obviously. I’ll take him to a safe hospital, it’s nearby, and I’ll bring Tony there too, he’ll help with the armour; it’s too different, I can’t operate it.”

Steve nodded. He knew Rhodes was there to help. He was one of Tony’s oldest friends.

But it stung that he was trusted with this and Steve wasn’t. 

***

Tony didn’t come back home that night. Steve told himself he wasn’t worried. He must’ve been waiting for an update on Iron Man’s injuries. The hit seemed serious; Iron Man was probably in surgery. Tony obviously trusted him with everything; he must’ve been worried. 

Steve didn’t want to sulk, but _why didn’t Tony even text him_?

Their bed seemed too big and too cold when it was just Steve lying there.

Finally, Steve sent a message to Tony. _Is Shellhead okay? Are **you**_ _okay?_

But no one answered him. 

Disheartened, he tried to sleep, but it eluded him.

***

Steve woke up from a fitful sleep at sunrise. He hopefully reached out across the bed, but no, he was still alone. He looked at his phone and saw no new notifications. 

He ate fried eggs for breakfast, but he couldn’t really taste them. Everyone else in the Tower was still asleep, but it was just as well. Steve wasn’t in a social mood.

He supposed he could go to the hospital. As long as he didn’t enter the actual room Iron Man was in, it should be okay, right? Then he realised Rhodes _hadn’t_ actually given him any address. “Nearby” could’ve meant a lot of things for someone flying one of Tony’s suits. 

Something was wrong, Steve could feel it. 

Logically, he knew that if something serious happened to Iron Man, if there was a danger to his life, if—Steve didn’t let himself think of that last _if—_ Tony would tell him. He wouldn’t keep it from Steve or from the team. Iron Man was their friend, after all, and Tony knew that. But that was exactly what bothered Steve right now.

Tony must’ve known that everyone would be worried. Why did he disappear without a word to who knows where?

It was just after 6 AM, but Steve took out his mobile and dialled Rhodey’s number anyway. 

“Hi, Cap,” Rhodey answered. He sounded hoarse and tired. 

“How’s Iron Man?” Steve asked without a preamble. He was on edge.

There was a beat of silence. “Still in surgery,” Rhodey said finally. “There were complications.”

Steve’s blood ran cold in his veins. _Complications_. The weight behind the word was enormous. He swallowed. “Let me know when he’s out?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“And—how’s Tony holding up?”

Another pause before Rhodey replied, “Worried.”

Of course he was. Tony always seemed tired and stressed whenever Iron Man got injured. “Let me talk to him,” Steve said. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“I’ll tell him you called,” Rhodey said. 

Steve frowned. “Where—”

But Rhodey must’ve disconnected the call, and Steve’s mobile went silent.

***

Steve tried to train, but even physical exertion wasn’t enough to distract him. He went through his routine automatically, not having to focus on it, while his mind was replying the fight over and over again. 

If only he’d been faster, Iron Man wouldn’t have been injured in the first place. 

Steve wished Tony was there. He was a civilian, but he always understood it when Steve was wound up about a fight. He always made it better. Steve wiped his palms on his trousers and picked up his phone again.

Tony didn’t answer. Neither did Rhodey.

It was Iron Man who’d been injured. It wasn’t about Steve. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking that there was something they weren’t telling him.

***

Tony didn’t come back in the evening, again.

Steve looked at his laptop. He hadn’t wanted to consider this option. It felt like he was breaking Tony’s trust. But Steve was worried, and his instincts were screaming at him.

He closed his eyes and counted to five, and then he opened his computer. He opened the Avengers program and input his override. Once he did that, he pushed all his hesitations aside. He clicked through the menus: Avengers ID cards, Iron Man, _track card location_.

He barely paused to pick up his shield when the address popped up on his screen.

***

It was close to midnight, way past the visiting hours. Steve tried not to feel guilty about it as he propped his shield on his elbow. 

“My teammate’s here,” he said to the woman standing at the front desk with a tired expression of the night shift. He’d considered sneaking in, but the hospital was a big one, and he didn’t have to run through all the floors of it, looking for the one room with Tony waiting at the door. 

She looked surprised at first, but then she clearly noticed the shield and her face cleared. “Captain America!” she said. “Yeah, Mister Stark is in room 616.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, moving to the elevator already. 

He hit the sixth floor and waited for what seemed like ages for the elevator to go up and let him out. 

He turned into the corridor leading to the ward and immediately spotted the right door: Rhodey was sitting just outside, his head in his hands. He looked up when Steve approached, his eyes widening.

“Cap,” he said. He shook his head. “I should’ve known you’d find it. I kept telling Tony, but . . .”

“Hi, Rhodey,” Steve said. “Where is he?”

Rhodey sighed. “Don’t be angry at him,” he said, gesturing at the door. 

Steve took it as a permission to go inside.

He expected to see Iron Man lying in a hospital bed, his face somehow covered since Rhodey let Steve inside, and Tony at his bed.

He didn’t expect to see _Tony_ , pale and fragile, with an oxygen mask on his face and surrounded by a multitude of monitoring equipment, bandages on his chest. 

He took half a step forward in shock, and stopped himself. He—he didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know how to proceed. He didn’t know how to react. 

And yet, deep down in his mind, he _wasn’t_ surprised. He _didn’t_ have to reframe what he knew, quite the contrary: only now did he feel like things suddenly started to make sense. How Tony always trusted Iron Man and how Iron Man sometimes made these cutting comments about Tony and sometimes only knew the things Steve had told Tony, how Tony always knew _everything_ about the Avengers’ missions.

How there were only two people in the world who truly understood Steve: Tony Stark and Iron Man.

Of course they were one and the same.

Of course.

Even deeper down, there was anger: they’d been together for _years_ and Tony had never told Steve the truth (Steve had never _noticed_ , either). He’d been lying ever since he met.

He was now hurt in a hospital bed because he’d risked his own life to save Steve.

There wasn’t any chair in the room. Steve assumed no one was meant to stay there, aside from the patient, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving now.

He sat at the wall, put his shield in his lap, and stared at Tony, willing him to wake up. They’d have to talk, after; this was _big_. But first Steve needed to know that Tony was really all right.

***

The doctors came and went; Steve could’ve heard Rhodey’s quiet voice, explaining something just outside the door. The nurses changed Tony’s bandages. The heart monitor beeped steadily in the background.

At some point, someone carried a chair inside. Steve pulled it closer to Tony’s bed—further than he’d like, but he didn’t want to disturb the doctors’ work—and continued waiting.

Tony didn’t wake.

***

Steve was dozing off, exhausted and unwilling to leave, when Tony stirred. At first, Steve thought he’d made it up, his brain showing him what he wanted to see, but no. Tony’s hand twitched on top of the sheets, and then he slowly blinked his eyes open.

They were the clearest blue, the same shade as Iron Man’s eyes, and Steve really should’ve noticed that before.

“Hi there, Shellhead,” he said, his throat tight.

Tony looked at him then, his eyes widening. “Steve,” he croaked out. “Oh, shit.”

Steve pressed the button next to Tony’s bed to call the doctors. He _could_ wait to talk to Tony just that bit longer. He needed to be sure Tony was fine.

“Don’t worry,” he told Tony.

Tony opened his mouth again, but then a young doctor went inside, and Steve moved aside again.

***

“So,” Tony said, sounding a bit better since he’d gotten to sip some water, “I—I understand if you want to end it.”

For a moment, Steve didn’t even understand what Tony meant. Then he sighed: _of course_ that was Tony’s first thought, even badly hurt in a hospital bed. _Of course_. “I love you, you idiot,” Steve said. “I wish you’d told me. I _will_ want to talk about it. But I didn’t wait for days for you to wake up only to break up with you.”

Tony blinked at him. “I know I’m not high on painkillers,” he muttered. “It hurts too badly for that, and it says in my documents I don’t want them. But—”

“ _I love you_ ,” Steve enunciated carefully. “I know it might be hard for your genius brain, but _I’m not leaving you_.”

Tony chuckled at that, and then winced immediately. “I love you too,” he said, his eyelids drooping low over his eyes. “I’m still sorry.”

“Mmmm,” Steve said. “Sleep, Tony.” His mouth twisted in a smile. “Iron Man.”

Tony didn’t answer. Steve took his hand in both of his and waited, less worried but not yet relaxed, for him to wake again.

It’d be okay.


End file.
